


Cotton Candy

by TheBlueSheep



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, platonic ship, the title makes perfect sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueSheep/pseuds/TheBlueSheep
Summary: Katsura needs a place to hide.Secret Santa 2k15 gift for Matharadical!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [matharadical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/matharadical/gifts).



Katsura checks the street both ways before quickly knocking on the door. He waits for a while, listening, waiting for footsteps, but everything is silent and he frowns. It means he’ll have to use a window, but before he goes to climb in from the balcony behind the house he gently tries pushing the door, which, to his surprise, opens with a fairly quiet screech. He grins to himself and slips in, leaving his shoes at the entryway. Gintoki would be so mad if he found out, but it seems that the house is empty so Katsura can hide there for a while.

“What are you doing here, Zura?”

Katsura flinches even though he immediately recognizes the voice. He rounds the couch and finds the master of the house sprawled over the couch on his stomach, looking like he just woke from a nap. The presence of a light blanket and a pillow confirms Katsura’s guess.

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura. I thought no one was home,” he answers truthfully.

“And so you think it’s okay to march into other people’s houses when they’re not home?” Gintoki mutters groggily into the pillow.

“I _did_ knock. No one answered and the door was open so... Oi, you okay?” he asks, eyeing the bokutou on the floor where Gintoki could reach it in the blink of an eye.

“More or less, yeah,” Gintoki said and sits up with a groan, scratching his head. “So? What do you want?”

“Can’t I visit an old friend without a reason? Are you injured?”

“Visiting a friend would mean you know he’s home, so that’s a contradiction from your part. It’s just a hangover.”

“But maybe after thinking that the house was empty, I wanted to wait for you inside. Honestly, it’s your own fault for leaving the door unlocked. Anyone could’ve stepped in. And it’s not just a hangover, is it?”

“Huh, gotta remember to set up an anti-patriot trap. That should keep annoying guests out of my house. And sure it’s a hangover. Drank too much last night,” he said and leans back, left hand hanging lazily over the backrest, the other leaning across his stomach in a manner that only adds to Katsura’s suspicions.

“It’s not an annoying guest, it’s Katsura, and my patriotism cannot be caught with any sleazy trap you might come up with. There _is_ something wrong with you.”

“Your patriotism can go rot in hell. What’s wrong is that I was forcefully woken from my nice nap by a rude guest who thinks he has the right to march into other people’s homes without asking permission first. Seriously, why the hell are you here? Is the first captain patrolling the streets again or something?”

“Whether Captain Okita has a new rocket launcher and is looking for a target to practise on or not is beside the point. Gintoki, I’ve known you for more than twenty years so stop lying for once. I _know_ there is something wrong with you and it’s not caused by either alcohol or sleep deprivation.”

“Aaah, okay, fine, you win. I’ll admit it. There is something wrong. Happy now?”

“Yes.” Katsura crosses his arms on his chest with a satisfied smile. Gintoki moans and flops back down face first into the pillow. “Since you don’t look like you’ll be much of a host, I’ll make tea myself.”

“Fine, but if I hear even a single explosion, I’m throwing you out,” he mumbles against the pillow.

Katsura shrugs and goes to the kitchen, leaving Gintoki lying face down on the couch. He takes out the kettle and fills it with water from the tap, all the while counting seconds. Three… five… seven… nine… ten… eleven…

“No good. I can’t leave you alone in my kitchen. Who knows, you could set the water on fire,” Gintoki says, leaning heavily against the doorframe, hair on one side of his head fluffing up horribly.

Yeah, just as Katsura thought. He’s too predictable. He really must be having a bad day then. But he doesn’t say anything about that.

“Water does not burn. Even you should know that.”

“Can never know with you. I remember the time you made a can of azuki beans and flour explode so hell if I’m allowing you near my last food supplies without supervision.”

“You’re still not mad about that, are you? That was our last chance to escape.”

“That was also most of my dinner. Thanks to you I couldn’t have anything sweet for a week. I thought I’d die, bastard. Ahh, I’m getting pissed off just by remembering that.”

“A samurai should not look at the past but only what’s in front of him,” Katsura says smartly and when he sees Gintoki cringe, he adds more quietly, “You should know that the best.”

“Shut up, Zura.”

He drags himself to a chair and sits to watch Katsura making tea. He must be doing it satisfyingly enough because Gintoki doesn’t whine about anything. Though maybe he doesn’t complain because he looks pretty zoned out, his gaze fixed on something very far away. Only when Katsura takes out the tea without having to rummage through the cupboards Gintoki finally shifts and Katsura waits for him to say something about this being his house and wigs shouldn’t feel so at home here, but he just falls silent again. Katsura really wants to sigh but holds back.

“So where are Shinpachi-kun and Leader?” he asks to distract him instead. Gintoki doesn’t answer so Katsura turns and looks him over critically. He does look like a wounded man with his eyes dull like that and he had moved stiffly, almost like an old man, but Katsura can’t detect any bandages hidden under his clothes. “Oi!” he calls loudly.

Gintoki looks up. “Hm?”

“Don’t ‘hm’ me, I asked a question.”

“You did? Sorry, couldn’t hear it through that thick wig of yours. Take it off, I’m telling you.”

“Your jokes suck,” Katsura says bluntly. “I asked, where are the kids?”

“Shinpachi and Kagura? Ah, they’re out on a job. Probably won’t be back before late.”

“You didn’t go with them? Could’ve provided you distraction.”

Gintoki shrugs.

“Did they tell you to stay home?”

Gintoki looks away to the corner of the kitchen.

“You… didn’t piss them off, did you?”

Gintoki keeps staring at the corner like it’s his mortal enemy and this time Katsura really does sigh.

“You can’t keep pushing them away. They’re good kids and they’d help you if you weren’t such a jerk to them.” For that Gintoki glares at him with burning hate but Katsura isn’t fazed by that. He’s seen it many times before and he knows Gintoki knows he’s right. “I know you don’t want to make them worry, but they’re not blind. If you keep doing this then eventually they’ll worry even more.”

The red in his eyes softens. “I hate it when you’re being perceptive like that. Be an idiot like you usually are.”

Katsura smiles. “It’s not perceptive. It’s Katsura. Here.” He holds out a cup for him. “I need a place to hide for a while. Mind if I stay here?”

“Nothing I say could make you leave anyway so why even bother asking?”

“Because unlike you I have actual manners.”

Gintoki frowns. “That’s not called manners. That’s called being an asshole.”

 “Practically the same thing anyway,” Katsura shrugs. “Come on, Elizabeth’s been winning all our UNO games recently so I want to test a new strategy on you.”

“What am I? A guinea pig?” Gintoki mutters to himself but follows Katsura to the living room anyway.

They play for a while and confirm that Katsura’s new strategy sucks, they bicker for a while, then argue over a stupid drama on the TV and Katsura is doing all he can to keep the other distracted. Eventually Gintoki whines that he’s tired and tries to take a nap on the couch which would work so much better if he’d stop squirming around so much.

An hour later and he still hasn’t calmed down and Katsura can’t put up with it any longer. He turns the TV volume down a little and goes to sit on the floor between the couch and the table right next to Gintoki’s head. He feels him move and doesn’t even have to look to know that Gintoki’s peeking over his shoulder with that bleary, almost comically puzzled expression of his.

“This is a better spot to watch TV from,” Katsura says matter-of-factly. Gintoki snorts and doesn’t say anything for a while, but he finally stays still.

Too still, actually.

Katsura can sense the tension and pressure growing in the room so much he tenses up too, his own combat instincts rising in the wait of an enemy attack. But there’s no enemy here, only Gintoki, and Katsura realises he might’ve made a terrible mistake. Maybe Gintoki wants to be left alone. Maybe he didn’t want Katsura there to annoy him in the first place. Maybe he made it worse, made him remember things he didn’t want to remember. What if what he thought would help actually made it worse? Katsura was, after all, partly to blame for this whole thing. If only he’d been stronger back then, faster and smarter, he could’ve thought of another way out of that situation so that it wouldn’t have hurt them so bad they still felt the pain even ten years later.

He really should leave.

He is just about to get up when Gintoki asks so softly Katsura almost misses it, “Hey, Zura?”

“Yeah?” Katsura has one hand on the floor, ready to push himself up.

“You ever have days like this?”

And Katsura feels the pressure disappearing like rice in the vicinity of Kagura. And he knows that Gintoki doesn’t hold it against him like he doesn’t hold it against Kagura for eating all the rice. Yeah, this is Gintoki. He just never wants anyone to see him hurting and he’ll go out of his way to achieve that. But this is Gintoki and Gintoki is stupid. So Katsura pushes a hand into that stupid unruly fluffed up hair of his because that should be an answer enough.

But obviously it’s not because Gintoki calls quietly, “Oi, I asked a question.”

“Sleep talk when you’re actually asleep, idiot,” Katsura answers. And yeah, he was wrong. Gintoki is never predictable.


End file.
